


Silent Communication

by AbschaumNo1



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Athelstan is pretty badass, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Post Episode 9, as is Lagertha but we already knew that, i have no idea how to tag this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-30
Updated: 2013-07-02
Packaged: 2017-12-16 16:53:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/864354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AbschaumNo1/pseuds/AbschaumNo1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They grow closer after Gyda's death and over time he begins to understand. in the end he doesn't want to leave. It is for Gyda that they start getting close, but it is for each other that they stay close.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> (I'm sorry if that summary sucks)
> 
> [with_the_monsters](http://archiveofourown.org/users/with_the_monsters) and I were talking about Athelstan/Lagertha when I remembered something I read about her and Ragnar. I honestly expected this to be done much sooner (and in fewer words) but it spinned out of control a bit.... I guess I took quite the liberties with the characters, but I hope it's not too bad and you guys can forgive me... The second part is written and will be up in a few days =)

When Ragnar had left her, Athelstan had stayed with Lagertha. He told himself that it had nothing to do with Ragnar trying to sacrifice him at Uppsala, but he knew he was lying to himself. In reality it was very much part of his decision. While being aware that he was technically still a slave in Ragnar’s household, Athelstan had trusted the man, just to find that the Viking dragged him off to have him sacrificed at the first opportunity. Lagertha had told him later that she had asked her husband to tell him about the fate he had planned for Athelstan, but Ragnar had always had his own head.

But all of that was still only part of the story. After all, Athelstan should probably have expected it. He was still a slave and there was nothing he could do about his master’s wishes. What had weighed in much more had been Gyda’s death. Losing her had hit them both, Lagertha, being her mother, even more than Athelstan.

He had only cried after the funeral, and then he had done his best to help those who were still getting better. Lagertha had taken him aside a few days later to force him to eat and to rest.

“My daughter wanted you to live, priest. Don’t deny her last wish by overexerting yourself.”

“Then you should do the same, Lady Lagertha. Your daughter wanted you to live, too, and your people still need you,” he had told her as he pushed a bowl towards her, and she had given him a small smile.

“We’ll care for each other then, priest. For Gyda.”

“Yes,” he had replied softly, “for Gyda.”

That had most likely been the start of it. They had looked out for each other from then on; Athelstan doing what he could to make the burden of ruling easier for his mistress to bear; Lagertha making sure that he didn’t work too much and got the rest he needed.

Over time they had become closer. They had become confidents of some sort, sharing stories about Gyda, whom they had lost. One day Athelstan had softly called her an angel, and when Lagertha had asked him about the meaning of it he had told her some of the stories he knew from the monastery. It was not until later that he realised that those were the first words related to his faith he had spoken since Gyda’s death. He had thought that maybe it should make him guilty, but he found that he cared less and less.

Sometimes he got Lagertha to talk to him about her gods. Her daughter had told him what stories she knew, but in the time they spent without Ragnar and Bjorn, and mourned together for Gyda, he got Lagertha to tell him more. Her daughter would have been happy about it, she had said one evening in early winter when they were the last ones sitting beside the fire, and he had believed her, because Gyda had always been happy to tell him about her world.

As the winter progressed and temperatures sunk they moved closer out of necessity to keep warm. They talked huddled close together in front of the fire, snow falling outside. She asked him to lie down with her that night.

“It’s more practical,” she said, “It keeps us both warm.”

They had not touched when they had fallen asleep, but when Athelstan woke up the next morning Lagertha’s arm lay heavily on his chest and her head rested on his shoulder. She asked him again that evening and the one after that until at last they did not talk about it anymore and he joined her silently in the evening, slipping in beside her, always close but never touching. He never initiated anything; it was a boundary he did not dare to cross. If they touched, it was Lagertha who started it.

They slept together in one bed, they talked and they looked out for each other, and at some point Athelstan understood. As he got to know her better, he saw that she cared more deeply for him than he had thought; that she sought comfort; and he began to learn the way she communicated through actions. That night he was the one to pull her close, to show her that he understood. She seemed a bit surprised, but she did not send him away and Athelstan knew that he had been right.

Weeks passed and the winter solstice drew near, and with it Christmas. Athelstan had not thought about it, even being so close to Lagertha he had his hands full with work for the Yule celebrations. He only thought about it the day before the celebrations began, and even then it was nothing but a fleeting thought that passed quickly as someone handed him a new basket of goods. When he undressed for bed that evening he found that the cross he had still worn around his neck was gone. He had kept it more out of habit than because he still believed in it. Now that he knew it was gone he felt more shock at its absence than he missed it for its value. Lindisfarne was far away now. Kattegat was his new home.

Months passed and a gentle wind brought the first signs of spring and along with them news from Ragnar.

He had got caught up in the armed conflict over the land he had been sent out to acquire through negotiation, and now that it had been settled and spring allowed him to travel again he was coming back to Kattegat. And while Lagertha prepared everything for her husband’s return, Athelstan found himself to be weary of it. He dreaded the changes in their daily life that Ragnar’s return would bring.

It was on a beautiful spring day that Ragnar returned to Kattegat and brought Princess Aslaug with him. That she was expecting a child was obvious and the way she stood close to Ragnar made clear who the father was. It was probably partly due to their closeness during the last months and partly because he looked for it that Athelstan could see Lagertha tense ever so slightly, and he could feel himself tense along with her. It seemed that Ragnar brought even more change than any of them ever would have expected.

Athelstan could see that Ragnar was sad when Lagertha told him about their daughter’s death. After all, he was no monster. But he was still distanced, as he seemed distanced in all his interactions with his wife.  Later Bjorn asked Athelstan about how his sister died. He expected the punch and he made no motion to avoid or block it. It still hurt, but even though he did not deserve it, if Bjorn needed this, Athelstan would be okay with it. However, Lagertha, who entered the room just as her son’s fist connected with Athelstan’s jaw, did not think so. Athelstan was not sure if Bjorn saw the way her blood boiled beneath her skin, even though she looked entirely calm.

“What did you do that for?” she demanded, her tone turning softer as she continued, “Your sister’s death was not his doing. And Gyda would not want you to hurt him. Not when she wanted him to live.” She turned to Athelstan. “Now Athelstan, I need your help with something.”

Athelstan nodded and made to follow her, almost missing Bjorn speaking to him.

“I’m sorry, priest.”

Standing in the door Athelstan turned around to reply.

“It’s ok. You needed it.”

“Ragnar will divorce me,” Lagertha told Athelstan when they were alone.

“What will you do?” he asked softly.

“He will accompany the Princess Aslaug and I will be named Earl in his absence.”

Athelstan was silent for a moment. He knew she would be a good Earl, probably the best her people could wish for, but at the same time he was afraid of what might happen to him when Ragnar left.

“You will be a good Earl,” he finally said, hoping that his voice did not betray his doubts.

Lagertha straightened up to look him in the eye. Apparently he had not done a good enough job and she had heard his unspoken question, or maybe she just knew him well enough by now. She studied him for a moment before she gently squeezed his shoulder.

“I have convinced him to free you. You can do what you want. Just rest assured that you will always be welcome here.”

“I...,” for a moment he could only stare at her, “Thank you. I, I would like to stay here.”

The smile on her face was genuine as she said, “I will be glad to have you with me.”

The ceremony for Ragnar’s and Lagertha’s divorce wasn’t until a few days later. Athelstan was there, even though not as one of the witnesses, and he could not help but feel a bit sad that they split up. It was painfully obvious that they loved each other, but Ragnar was a man who believed strongly in signs and the signs had pointed him away from Lagertha and towards Aslaug. Athelstan thought that once the anger was gone, Lagertha would feel the pain, and he promised himself that he would be there to help her when it happened.

Ragnar left not long after the ceremony, taking Bjorn with him and leaving Lagertha in charge of Kattegat. He talked to Athelstan briefly, before he left, mostly confirming what Lagertha had already said and inviting him to accompany him on this new adventure. Athelstan rejected the offer as politely as he could.

Bjorn came to talk to him shortly before they left.

“I trust you to care for her,” he said and Athelstan nodded.

“I will.”

Bjorn nodded, too and there was a look in his eyes that made Athelstan think that perhaps there was something he was missing.

He found Lagertha sitting on her bed that evening. He hesitated in the door and watched her for a moment, wondering if it was okay for him to enter. When she didn’t react to his presence he slipped into the room and sat down beside her, one arm slipping easily around her shoulder to pull her close. He was tentative, hoping he didn’t overstep any borders. It was unusual for them to be that close, but he felt that she needed this. With a sigh she sunk into his arms and buried her face against his chest. She didn’t cry, but they spent the night tightly wrapped around each other, Athelstan giving Lagertha the comfort she sought.

Even though he was basically free to do whatever he liked, Athelstan continued to serve Lagertha. However, his status in her household was higher. It brought new challenges, but as he had gotten used to his new life with these people, he got used to his new tasks now. Lagertha and he still slept together, the feeling of being with someone at night far too ingrained in their sleeping habits, and the pain of being thrown away and left by those of her family who remained too present for Lagertha.

“You are my family now,” she whispered one night when they were almost asleep already.

“And you’re mine,” he replied without thinking, a warm feeling spreading in his stomach.

He didn’t really understand that feeling, but it came back to him again and again, a happiness occurring when Lagertha was close and that he sought out from time to time. Sometimes it almost seemed as if they were treading around the edges of something bigger, something too obscure for him to understand. Athelstan was not entirely sure if it was a good thing they were edging closer to, or if it wasn’t, but the warmness made him inclined to believe that whatever would come of this would be good. The looks Siggy shot them every once in a while, when she thought they wouldn’t see it told him that she was aware of what they were skirting around, and unlike him Siggy seemed to know exactly what it was.

In the end it was Lagertha who had no patience to wait until he figured it out for himself. It happened after a quiet evening when they were already lying in bed. One moment Athelstan was on his back, staring up at the ceiling, the next Lagertha gently pulled his head around to face her and studied him intensely. He looked into her eyes and suddenly he felt like he could drown in them (she’s close, he thought, why is she so close?) and before he could do anything she leaned forward and kissed him.

Athelstan was not prepared for the feeling of her lips on his own and for a split-second he had no idea what to do. Lagertha was on the verge of breaking away when he responded tentatively, unsure what to do exactly. His lips moved clumsily against Lagertha’s as she put a hand on his neck to hold him close. She kissed him eagerly and with much more experience, a kiss that almost bordered on biting, giving him an impression of just how fed up she was with waiting for him to make a move.

Lagertha finally broke the kiss and contemplated him with a smile. It was in that moment, under her gaze that Athelstan couldn’t help but feel embarrassed about his inexperience, and if it hadn’t been for Lagertha’s hand still on his neck, he would have moved away to hide his shame. His mind was still processing the storm of emotions that had come with the kiss, not to mention the fact that Lagertha had actually kissed him, and that she was still so close. He wasn’t sure what she intended, the only thing he understood was that he liked it and that he would very much like to do it again. But he hesitated, unsure if he was allowed to go that far, and Lagertha understood the look in his eyes.

“It’s ok,” she said softly and with a glint of warmth in her eyes.

Athelstan released a breath he didn’t know he had been holding and closed the distance between them again (still hesitant, he had no experience in this and he really didn’t want to do this wrong). He found that he shouldn’t have worried; found that Lagertha responded as eagerly as before, biting, maybe with an edge of hunger.

When they broke apart again Lagertha smiled and pressed a short, much chaster kiss to his lips before she moved closer and pulled the sheets around them, one arm wrapped around Athelstan’s waist, and closed her eyes to sleep.

They didn’t talk about it; they rather used their usual silent way of communicating. The growing fondness between them showed itself in looks and smiles, and lingering touches in passing; it showed itself in knowledge passed on, in stories told to make him understand, and in increased trust in his abilities to handle things on his own.

The kisses they kept to themselves, they were not something they wanted to share with others, but they happened when they were on their own, sometimes chaste, sometimes filled with emotion. From short pecks of reassurance to long sessions spent with exploring each other, intricate dances of tongues, everything was possible between them.

None of them pressed further for the time being. Even though his vows meant nothing to him now, they had been part of Athelstan’s life for so long that he wasn’t sure if he could disregard them now. Lagertha accepted that, at least for the time being, and gave him the time to sort his thoughts out.

Athelstan thought about these things as he lay awake in the early hours of dawn, the very first light of the day creeping through the spaces between the beams and illuminating the room softly. It was barely enough to see, but he could make out Lagertha’s features in the dimness. She was fast asleep, right next to him, and he had all the time of the world to look at her. Her face looked peaceful in her sleep, the worries of daily life not as present in her thoughts. Her blonde hair was a mess around her head and he remembered how it had shone in the sun on midsummer’s day, almost a halo around her head. She kept sleeping close, always touching him, and he had to admit that he enjoyed it.

Their closeness had invoked so many unfamiliar feelings in him that sometimes he wasn’t sure where to start when he thought about them. He loved being with her, her presence made him feel happy, and he could see that it was very much the same for her. When she was with him she would let down her guard and be herself, without the boundaries her position imposed on her. He could see her relax when they were together, content to have room to breathe and take her mind off the ever constant worries Kattegat presented her with. Athelstan liked to see her like that, and it felt good to know that he was the one she showed that side to. Sometimes he thought that he would like to keep her with him to be able to always see her like this. It was a possessive new feeling that he couldn’t name yet, and while there were times when he liked to indulge in it (especially when she looked particularly exhausted or when something worried her too much), he knew that it wasn’t possible to act on it. It would mean to act against Lagertha’s very being, and that was something he knew he couldn’t do. She cared too much about her people, and she loved her freedom too much to hide away like that. And as Athelstan watched her sleep he knew that he wanted to stay with her forever. It felt good to be with her, it felt good to touch her, to hold her in his arms. Athelstan had never experienced the kind of love he felt for Lagertha, but he was sure that it was love, and he was sure that he wanted to have all of her.

He was content at that moment, lying there and watching Lagertha sleep while outside Kattegat slowly woke up to another late summer day. It wasn’t long until she opened her eyes, slowly blinking away sleep. She smiled at him sleepily, and he found himself smiling back as he bent over and gave her a slow, rather chaste kiss that he hoped would communicate his emotions; the love (that as he now realised had been growing for a long time), how happy he was to be with her, the little burst of possessiveness he felt towards her (with the lingering acceptance that she would be confined by no one but herself) and the promise of more to come, the admittance of the fact that he wanted _everything_. There was a hint of surprise in her eyes when he pulled back, but she smiled and there was an all-new edge in their next kiss.

He thrummed with excitement for the whole day. When they touched it was with the knowledge of the promise of the things to come and it sent shivers down his spine. When they finally stood in Lagertha’s bedchamber (their bedchamber, Athelstan reminded himself, because while they were not married they definitely belonged together now) he could feel a tinge of nervousness pool in his stomach.

“You don’t have to do this,” she said softly, but Athelstan shook his head.

“I want to do this,” he replied as he took a step forward to kiss her.

She didn’t answer, just pulled him close, hands slipping under his tunic, and as she kissed him she pulled him towards the bed and Athelstan could only follow her lead as she began to remove their clothes.

It was probably a week later that they lay in bed together and Lagertha told him that she though he should learn how to fight.

"You're a free man," she said, one hand trailing idle circles on his chest, "you will be expected to help when we are attacked."

Athelstan's mind took a minute to catch up with what she said.

"I'm not sure that I would be fit to fight," he said finally.

Lagertha arched an eyebrow at him from where she lay propped up on one elbow. But she smiled and bent over to kiss him.

"I don't expect you to become a killer, Athelstan. I just think you should learn enough to defend yourself and to be able to defend our people if the need arises."

He could only smile weakly at that. "If you insist."

And so he found himself in an open space a few days later, an axe in his hand, Lagertha circling him slowly and correcting his stance. They only had a few hours a day like this, but she had decided that it had to be enough.

“As I told you,” she had said, “It’s alright if you only learn some basics and for that it should be sufficient.”

Athelstan was fairly sure that he would regret this soon enough, but he would definitely not try to get out of this (not that he had any chance to; he was quite sure that Lagertha wouldn’t let him if he tried). Lagertha was a ruthless teacher, who let him work hard and who seldom gave a word of praise, or at least that was what it felt like to Athelstan, who was the one to do the work. The lessons tired him and some days he felt like he would not be able to move again. Lagertha laughed at him, but if there was mocking in it, it was not too much, and she always had a comforting embrace for him.

“I’ve seen worse fighters than you,” she told him one evening and added with a smile, “And you’re a quick learner.”

Athelstan just smiled back and closed his eyes as she slid an arm around his waist to pull him closer.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was a very long time before Athelstan and Ragnar meet again...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The second part as promised!  
> There's a time jump of at least 6 years between the first part and this one (which is why I divided it into two parts actually) and well... things have changed quite a bit...

It was a very long time before Athelstan and Ragnar met again, and when they did the Viking king did not recognise him at first.

The quiet monk Ragnar knew did not only look more like a Viking now, his whole bearing was like one of them. It was obvious that he was the leader of the men Lagertha had sent, but at the same time he had an easy way with them that was rooted in camaraderie rather than authority. He was respectful when he talked to Ragnar, but the king could also see that he was not afraid to stand his ground if he had to. He wore the axe on his hip as if he was used to it and the way he stepped off the ship spoke of the many times he had done it before. No, the man coming with the ships from Kattegat was not the one Ragnar had brought with him from Northumbria; he wasn’t even the man he had freed when he had left his first wife. This man was someone Ragnar only knew the name of.

  
Athelstan was nothing if not polite when he delivered Lagertha's greetings to her former husband, and her apologies for not coming herself, as well as assurances that she trusted Athelstan to lead her men in her stead. But he excused himself as soon as he could to look if his men were settled in and provided for. The ask for help had surprised then, having had close to no contact with Ragnar since he left, and having only heard few news of his endeavours. Their raids had been successful enough to ensure Kattegat’s wealth over the past years, and Lagertha's rule had proved to be a wise one. Life in Kattegatt stayed peaceful for the most part. When Ragnar, who was king now that he had married Aslaug, had asked them for help in a civil war, it had taken them some time to think about it and decide on a course of action. Lagertha had been reluctant to let them go without her (she was a shield-maiden after all and she would not sit idle at home while others fought the battles), but she couldn't do anything against it and had sent Athelstan with them. He had proven to be capable in battle, and he had a way with the men that made him the best choice for the position; and she trusted him to make the right decision in the right moment (including when he should listen to someone else's opinion).

Athelstan was barely out of the hall when Bjorn caught up with him and clapped him on the shoulder.

"It's good to see you, priest," he said grinning, and Athelstan couldn't help the smile tugging on his lips. Bjorn had grown up to be a formidable warrior, a lot like his father in bearing, but with the fierceness of his mother's visible in his eyes.

"I haven't been a priest for a long time, Bjorn."

"I see that. You seem to be a warrior now."

Athelstan grinned. "Only when the need arises. I'm really more of a steward usually."

Bjorn laughed at that. "Still, you seem to have it in you."

"Yes, apparently I have."

Bjorn's smile faded a bit when he asked, "So, how is Lagertha?"

"The last time I saw her she was calming down her daughter, who didn't want me to leave."

Bjorn frowned. "But Gyda is dead," he said slowly.

"Who said I was talking about Gyda?" Athelstan raised an eyebrow, a slight smile on his face. Maybe he was being mean, but there were a lot of things Bjorn apparently didn't know and maybe it was just the slightest bit satisfying to be the one with the knowledge this time.

"If this isn't about Gyda, do you mean...?" The frown made place for a puzzled look.

"Yes, she was with child again and this time it survived."

"But...how?"

This time Athelstan laughed. "I really think I don't have to explain to you how _that_ works."

Bjorn grinned. "No, you don't. But still, who's the father?"

The look on Athelstan's face became almost embarrassed. "Well, it's me."

Bjorn gaped at him. "You? But didn't you...I mean I'm sure I can remember you saying something about having vowed not to touch women."

“I did make a vow when I was still a monk, but…you could say I had a crisis of faith and…” His embarrassment was obvious now, and Bjorn, still being the little devil Athelstan remembered, had nothing better to do than laugh at him.

“Well done,” the young man said grinning, before he turned dead serious, “But if you hurt her you will have to deal with me.”

“Then I’m safe, I guess,” Athelstan returned with an almost easy grin. “Because until you are there to deal with me Lagertha would probably have killed me already.”

“Yes, I guess she would.” They were silent for a moment. ”I think I’d like to visit sometime when this is all over,” Bjorn said finally, “I mean it’s nice here and everything, but I would like to see my mother again.”

Athelstan squeezed his shoulder. It was easy to forget that beneath the surface of the warrior, Bjorn was still young, and that he had been even younger when he had been separated from his mother.

“I think she would like to see you, too,” he replied.

Athelstan didn’t see much of Bjorn or Ragnar outside of meetings or official functions throughout the weeks it took them to settle the civil war. Ragnar seemed to be constantly occupied and it looked like he kept his son occupied as well. The most remarkable event was probably the feast at which Athelstan was formally introduced to the Queen Aslaug.

It was held for the important troop leaders, in celebration of a recent victory and the birth of Aslaug’s third son. The queen looked radiant and Ragnar was obviously in a good mood when he called Athelstan over to introduce him to his wife.

“This is Athelstan, a Christian priest I brought with me from my first raid in the west.”

Athelstan didn’t bother to correct him when he bowed before them.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, my queen, and I hope you accept my good wishes for your son,” he said politely.

Aslaug inclined her head in response. “My husband has told me that you lead the men the Lady Lagertha has sent to his aid. You have come far for a slave.”

“I am lucky to be trusted so much by the Lady Lagertha.”

“I had hoped to be able to meet her. After all, she is renowned for her skill in battle. I hope she is well?”

“She is indeed well, and she regretted not being able to come, but there were important matters that kept her at home.”

“I hope that we will have the chance to meet one day. Please deliver her my best wishes when you see her again.” And with that Athelstan was dismissed. He bowed a last time and retreated back to his place.

He was joined by Bjorn a bit later when a large part of the guests had drunk enough to be considered drunken. Athelstan had managed to stay fairly sober (he could hold his drink well enough, but he preferred to have a clear head at this place), and was watching the men around him. Bjorn looked like he was on the edge between tipsy and properly drunk when he set down next to Athelstan on the bench.

“You look like you’re having fun,” he said with a slight grin that Athelstan could only answer with a dry smile. They sit in companionable silence for a moment before Bjorn speaks again. “I have talked to Ragnar. About visiting Kattegatt, I mean.”

“What did he say?”

Bjorn pulled a face as he drank from the drinking horn in his hand.

“He wasn’t exactly pleased. Told me he’s need me here. We argued a bit, but in the end he said I could go.”

Athelstan smiled at him and grasped his shoulder. “I’ll be glad to have you with me. And I’m sure your mother will be, too.”

Bjorn grinned. “And I’m looking forward to seeing that girl of yours.”

“I bet you do,” Athelstan said drily and they both laughed.

It took them several more weeks to settle the civil war and then they still had to wait while the preparations for their return to Kattegatt were made. Ragnar tried to make them stay a while longer, but Athelstan talked his way out of it by pointing out that the men were needed at home and that they had agreed to help him settle this conflict, nothing more, and in the end they were free to go. Bjorn appeared with a small bundle on the morning of their departure, a grin on his face and something that Athelstan was sure was glee in his eyes. Athelstan smiled at him and they went through the last preparations before they took off and set sail towards their home.

Their welcome to Kattegatt was warm, the families of the warriors glad to have them back, and the men just as happy to be home again. When they reached the landing stage Athelstan stepped off the ship and bowed to Lagertha.

“I have brought your men back, my Lady Lagertha.”

She smiled warmly at him. “You have done well, and you will have to tell me more when we celebrate your return.”

He returned the smile as he bend up again.

“I have also brought a guest with me,” he said, “someone who wanted to see you again.”

Bjorn stepped forward at his words and inclined his head in a gesture of respect.

“It is good to see you again, mother.”

As usual Lagertha’s puzzlement was hidden to those who didn’t know how to look for it. However, everyone could see her happiness as she stepped forward to put her arms around her son.

“I’m glad to see you Bjorn.”

Athelstan got his real welcome later, in the privacy of their rooms. Their daughter sitting in his lap, not minding Bjorn at all (she had deemed him interesting, but less interesting than her father when they had been introduced, something Bjorn had only laughed at) and demanding him to tell her stories of his adventures until Lagertha told her firmly that she should let Athelstan breathe and rest. She was a lively child, with a strong character and Athelstan was sure that she would be a lot like her mother when she was older. She let Athelstan promise that he would answer all her questions when he had slept properly and that yes he would bring her to bed this evening, before she slipped off his knee to go over to Bjorn and said with all the dignity of a four year-old. “So you are my brother.”

“Yes I am,” he replied with an amused smile.

“You are allowed to let me sit in your lap.”

Bjorn laughed and picked her up and Athelstan smiled warmly as she began to pester her half-brother with questions.

It was even later when they were in the quietness of their bedchamber that Lagertha kissed him, and they let their lips and fingers tell how much they missed each other, and it wasn’t until they lay in each other’s embrace that Lagertha spoke softly against his collarbone.

“I’m with child again.”

Athelstan smiled and gave her a kiss, full of happiness (and with a slight hint of “It will be okay”).

“That’s wonderful,” he told her and he could feel her breath ghost over his jaw as she wrapped one arm tightly around his waist. And all that Athelstan could think of as he lay in the dark, listening to her breath calming down, was that he was glad to have all of this. With a content sigh he buried his nose in Lagertha’s hair, closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.


End file.
